


Slip-Sliding Away

by TeriH



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Gen, Humor, Magnificent Seven AU: ATF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-31 10:41:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18589612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeriH/pseuds/TeriH
Summary: Originally published in Nothing To Chance #10 (Neon RainBow Press, 2011)Ah, winter in Denver.





	Slip-Sliding Away

The door to the stairwell swung open and Vin Tanner emerged on the 1st level of the parking garage, taking a deep breath of the cold damp air and feeling the stress of the day ebb away.  He had always wondered why elevators and stairwells tended to give him such a feeling of dread when he could lie in wait for hours wedged between stacks of crates during a stakeout with no ill effect.  

 

While it had been a fairly warm day for late February, the temperature had dipped with the setting sun. Glancing out of the building he could see that the unpredictable Denver weather had deposited a fresh dusting of snow, covering the walkways and streets beyond.  Ezra would not be amused. 

 

Vin looked around and saw the Jag in it's usual parking spot, but there was no sign of the Ezra Standish. That was strange. Ezra had told Vin he would meet him down at the car. The undercover man had offered to drive him home since his beloved jeep was out of commission. While the Jag wasn't the best on snowy streets it did have one thing at the moment that Vin's vehicle did not . . . a working heater and a sturdy pair of snow tires.

 

Vin had watched his friend board the elevator before he even started to shut down his computer. He had expected to find an impatient Standish waiting for him, the car already running and warm. So where was Ez?

 

The muffled sound of . . . _was that Russian,_ drifted to where Vin now stood beside the Jag. Glancing through the door he saw Ezra's briefcase sitting on the floor behind the driver's seat. Again an unintelligible sound reached his ears . . . _Italian._

 

 _"_ Ez, is that you?"

 

Vin tentatively moved toward the garage opening and another spate of what Vin now _knew_ to be swearing reached him. Spanish he understood. He could give Ezra a run for his money when it came to knowledge of the more colorful phrases, yet Vin found himself impressed with the originality that the Southerner was currently showing.

 

Stepping into the opening Vin had to work hard to contain that smile that leapt to his face.  There in the middle of the courtyard stood a precariously balanced Ezra Standish.

 

Ezra's arms were held out perpendicular to his body, his feet shoulder width apart, as he appeared to teeter and then regain his balance.  The sheen from where the snow had been pushed aside by his sliding feet made it easy to see the man now stood on a patch of glazed ice which had been hidden by the snow.

 

"Whatcha doin', Ez?" A twinkle lit Vin's eyes.

 

"What does it _look_ like, Mr. Tanner?"

 

"If I had ta hazard a guess . . .  I'd say iceskatin'."

 

Vin wasn't sure what language the Southerner spouted but it didn't sound very complimentary.

 

~~~~~~~~~

 

Ezra _knew_ it was quite obvious that he had been heading to the Starbucks which stood directly across the courtyard from the Federal building. He had made it halfway to his destination before the slippery surface had brought him to an abrupt halt. Nathan had lectured him on the danger of his prized Italian loafers on the snow-packed sidewalks of Denver.  So here he stood his objective in sight and behind him a far too amused Vin Tanner. He would never live this down.

 

"Ez, ya planning on standing there all night?"

 

Vin was correct, he could not just stand where he was. Making a decision, Ezra steadied himself and slowly shuffled his feet until he was facing Vin.  With the first maneuver successfully accomplished he carefully slid a foot forward but was soon unbalanced. The only thing that kept him from falling was the wind-milling action of his arms. Once stable, Ezra again froze in that position.

 

"Ez, just stay there and don't move. Ya best let me come ta you." Vin shook his head at his friends predicament.

 

"Mr. Tanner, I feel that would be foolhardy. The traction of your cowboy boots wo . . ." Ezra watched as the sharpshooter walk with a firm gait across the ice, the jerk of his head as he looked down at Vin's feet almost his undoing.

 

Vin was wearing a pair of ratty old sneakers.

 

"Rubber soles, Ez. Some of us listen to Nathan. Now let's get you outta here."

 

Using Vin for stability Ezra took a step, then another before he felt his foot sliding out from under him.  He grabbed for Vin to stop his decent but nearly toppled them both.  By the time they had regained their balance Ezra stood bent over at the waist, arms wrapped firmly around the sharpshooter's chest, his head tucked under Vin's right arm. 

 

"Ez, I ain't that kinda guy."

 

"I quite apologize, Mr. Tanner," Ezra stammered as he 'walked' his way up Vin's body until he was once again standing, a hand resting on Vin's shoulder.

 

"Reckon after that we know each other well enough for ya to call me Vin," Tanner chuckled at his friends discomfort. "Okay, let's try it again only this time, Ez, just slide your feet."

 

"A wise suggestion indeed, Vin."

 

The duo had progressed another few feet before Ezra again found himself falling. This time accomplishing the task and taking Vin with him, accompanied by the sound of ripping fabric.

 

"Are you quite alright, Vin." Ezra asked, clearly concerned for his friend as he noticed the rip in the knee of the man's jeans.

 

"Weren't me. This hole's been here since I helped Chris fix fences last fall."

 

From the chill Ezra was feeling in his nether regions he was afraid that Vin was correct.  He reached back carefully. _Damn, my best Armani slacks. Hopefully it is just a simple split seam._

Standish watched as a sure-footed Vin climbed to his feet and then attempted to follow, only to have his feet slide out once again and land with a resounding _THUD_ on his 'pride'.

 

His second attempt garnered the same results. Now along with being slightly chilled and unmentionable part of his body was becoming rather sore.

 

"Ez, just stay down, I got me an idea."

 

Ezra watched as Vin approached, a twinkle in his eye.  "Why is it I feel assured I will dislike this idea of yours?"

 

"Oh, I'm quite sure yer gonna hate it," Vin smirked as he reached down, grabbing Ezra's ankles and unceremoniously drug him to the edge of the patch of ice.

 

Ezra stood with as much dignity as he could muster and brushed the snow off of the seat and knees of his slacks. A cold breeze reminded him of his wardrobe malfunction and he quickly straightened, pulling down his jacket.

 

"Ah, Hell!" Tanner muttered.

 

Spinning to see what had caused Vin's small outburst, Ezra found himself looking directly into the lens of a camcorder manned by a grinning Buck Wilmington.  "That was some show there, boys."

 

Ezra walked calmly through the five members of Team 7, who had watched the whole ordeal, and moved toward his beloved car and sanctuary.

 

Reaching into his pocket his hand came up empty.  A string of words flew from the flustered man.

 

"Hey, Ez, ya lose something." Vin pressed the small remote button and unlocked the car. He tossed the keys to Ezra, opened the passenger door and slid inside. "By the way, when'd you learn Portuguese?"

 


End file.
